


Introspection

by makesometime



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Brasidas is bad at doing nothing, F/M, It makes him get all thinky, Parenthood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-30
Updated: 2018-12-30
Packaged: 2019-09-30 21:29:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17231528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/makesometime/pseuds/makesometime
Summary: They have never married.It’s never been a conscious choice simply… there has never seemed to be the need. It has always been clear to all who encounter them that the heart of Kassandra, the Eagle-Bearer, themisthiosof greatest legend belongs to Brasidas of Sparta.What he fears the people do not know is how woefully, desperately, endlessly devoted he is to her in turn.





	Introspection

**Author's Note:**

> This is a sort-of continuation to Wonder, because I am apparently committed now to these two having a family. 
> 
> I hithered and dithered over what their first (/only?) child would be, and consider myself just about contented with what I chose. I'm not really a fan of forcing characters to name their children after side-characters but I made a slight exception here.

They have never married. 

It’s never been a conscious choice simply… there has never seemed to be the need. It has always been clear to all who encounter them that the heart of Kassandra, the Eagle-Bearer, the _misthios_ of greatest legend belongs to Brasidas of Sparta. 

What he fears the people do not know is how woefully, desperately, endlessly devoted he is to her in turn.

What would happen if he were he to go to Nikolaos now, make a formal request for Kassandra’s hand? No doubt the man would laugh him right of the city. Five years have passed since Alexios’ return. They have a _child_. What more could formal recognition bring that they do not already have?

Brasidas chuckles, turning a small, foot-smoothed stone over in his hands. 

Time away from battle makes his mind spin in circles, introspective to a fault. It matters not that he has done his duty in providing Sparta with a male heir. There is still more to be done. Territory to take, even more to solidify control over. His responsibilities will soon call once again.

A thundering of hooves and whooping heralds three young men on their way to the _agora_. The Gymnopaedia is upon them and his exclusion from events should continue - he is a bachelor, in name, after all…

His pondering on his precisely eligibility is interrupted (thankfully, as he was beginning to annoy himself) by frantic crying from inside the house behind him. By the Gods but his son is blessed with strong lungs. Brasidas hides a smile as he looks back over his shoulder. It is easy to be amused by it, from a distance. 

The crying dies out quickly, but it is chased by displeased cursing that, if anything, makes his smile harder to hide. Before too long the door to their home opens and Kassandra stalks out, Leon suckling contently at her breast.

Her incandescent anger is purely maternal as she scowls down the road at the retreating youths, hand flexing angrily at her side. Brasidas wonders if they’re aware the only thing between each of them and two black eyes is the squalling of an infant.

“ _Malakas_.” She sighs, glancing down at the babe in her arms. 

Her irritation fades before his eyes, her face softening and shoulders losing all of their tension. He knows that feeling all too well. Nothing has disarmed him as thoroughly as their son’s bright eyes, his pink cheeks and soft dark hair. He sees himself in that little face far less frequently than he sees Kassandra, the strength of her line, Leon’s namesake, shining through.

“Do they have no respect?” She mutters down at him. 

Brasidas climbs to his feet, dropping the stone over the side of the cliff, forgotten. “I can take him, should you wish to teach them some.”

Kassandra glances up, her surprise at his presence well disguised… though not quite well enough for him to not spot it. She must be tired. 

“Forgive me, but I suspect you would struggle to step in.” She smiles, catching up Leon’s flailing arm and guiding it to rest on her chest. 

“A fair point, my heart.” 

Brasidas moves closer, his arm sliding around her back so that he can watch their son feed. He cradles Leon’s head in his hand, continually astounded by how small, how vulnerable the boy is. Even now, he is barely older than Alexios was when…

The weight of Kassandra’s gaze is heavy. He glances up to find a pinch between her brows, worry clear in the honey brown of her eyes. “ _Gods_ , Brasidas. We need to get you back to the war before you think yourself into an early grave.”

He can’t help but chuckle, leaning in to press a kiss to her cheek. “First we must endure the festival. Then perhaps I shall see about making myself useful again.”

Kassandra’s lips quirk up into a dangerous expression that he has long since learned to be wary of. “If you truly wish to make yourself useful, there is a pile of soiled cloths in the house that someone needs to tackle.”

Oh, but she is _clever_. Waiting until after he expressed a disinterest in the festival. Cutting off his escape route. For all the times she worried to him in the middle of a sleepless night that motherhood would dull her senses, it seems to have only enhanced them.

She raises a brow at his hesitance, fighting to hold back a smirk. He can see her losing the battle so he kisses her, swallowing down her pleased and bright laugh.

“Very well. For the good of our child.” 

Kassandra leans in for another kiss, nipping at the swell of his lip. “Leon will rest as soon as his belly is full. And with no other obligations…”

Heat flares, momentarily, in the pit of his stomach. He groans, unbidden, hungrily watching the way Kassandra’s cheeks flush in response to the sound. He’s been patient. He hasn’t pushed. Kassandra knows her body best…

“Hurry, Brasidas.”

With a final stolen kiss, he turns and makes haste to the house.


End file.
